


Hearts Have a Past That Must Be Reckoned

by Aishuu



Series: East Kingdoms Block Party [2]
Category: Juuni Kokki | Twelve Kingdoms
Genre: Canon Continuation, Gen, Mild Angst, Slash Goggles, The Livejournal exodus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-07 22:51:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1917000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aishuu/pseuds/Aishuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Tai is saved, Taiki has a chance to realize how much he's suffered and survived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hearts Have a Past That Must Be Reckoned

It was not in the immediate aftermath that Taiki's trauma finally set in. Instead, it took two months of relative peace for him to realize exactly how horrible things had been.

Life in Hourai seemed like a distant dream, but so too did the his memory of the first time in Tai's palace. The scant few months of pleasurable life he'd known there – after Enki and the Ever King had sorted out his doubts about his oath – seemed a fantasy. Wherever he turned, he could smell the faint remnants of the blood that had been spilled, the echo of the people who would never return.

It was worse during the night, when the palace became quieter and he couldn't distract himself with the work that needed attending to. It was difficult for him to sleep, because a part of him feared that if he shut his eyes, he would wake up to discover himself separated from his master again.

He took to walking through Gyousou's palace at night, checking for signs of trouble. Sanshi and Gouran, recently restored to him, were reassuring presences, but he was still uneasy. Nothing in his life had ever gone smoothly, and he worried this was the calm before an even greater storm.

Each evening his course took him passed Gyousou's bedchamber, and while he paused outside of it, he never made a move to enter. Doing so would infringe greatly on Gyousou's privacy, and he didn't want to be seen as a clingy child. He had grown up, and he needed to stand on his own. His master had no time to indulge in Taiki's own pettiness.

On the tenth night of this routine, he allowed himself a longer moment outside. Greatly daring, he allowed his fingers to brush the wood of the door. He was separated from his master by only a few inches, and it was tempting to steal a peek, just to make sure Gyousou was still there. Their reunion didn't seem real when they were apart.

But he wouldn't want to be so needy. Sighing, he moved to turn away but was stopped when a voice called out for him, "Kouri, come in."

It was not a request, but a subtly stated order.

Taiki didn't spend a moment wondering how Gyousou had known it was him lurking outside. He felt a flush of shame spread across his cheeks, but obeyed the order, coming to stand before his master. Gyousou sat behind the curtained bed, his face shielded by the thin layers of silk.

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you, master," he said, falling to his knees in obsequiousness. He was horrified by the thought he'd again let Gyousou down.

Gyousou didn't respond immediately, and Taiki looked at his own hands for lack of anywhere else more appropriate to rest his eyes. His master was always so careful to avoid hurting him, even when he deserved to be remonstrated. He worried his lip with his teeth, wishing he'd just stayed in his own room to avoid this scene.

He heard the sound of rustling silk, and looked up to see Gyousou had slid to the edge of the bed and pushed the silk aside so there was no shield between them. He stared into his master's red eyes, the part of him that was kirin frozen by his terrible majesty. "It is I who should be apologizing to you, Kouri," he said.

"Never!" Taiki responded, the word ripped from his lips without a moment for conscious thought.

"Your kindness is almost too sweet to bear," Gyousou said. "I was the adult, and you were the child. What went wrong with Tai is my responsibility, not yours. In the end, it is always the king who must accept the blame when his kingdom starts to go astray. And it is always the kirin who ends up paying the highest price."

Taiki wanted to argue, but could not find any fault in that reasoning. "Master..."

Gyousou's lips twitched in what was probably meant to be a smile. "The last years apart from you have given me much time to reflect on my hubris. I swore many times that if I saw you again, I would let you know how much I cherished your company. There were times when I started to question if Tai was worth it, but then I remembered you. I wanted to see you again, and let your goodness remind me why I fought for this country."

Taiki's throat clenched tightly, rendering him unable to speak. He had yet to confess what had happened to him in Hourai, and how he'd let himself be corrupted. He didn't want his master to know. He was so very ashamed of what he had let happen. His hand trailed up to his forehead, pressing against the sensitive spot where his reclaimed horn rested when he was in kirin form. The pain of his failure was nearly overwhelming.

If he had been knowledgeable like Keiki, or strong like Enki, he would have been able to support Gyousou. He would have recognized the treachery that bloomed in Asen's heart, and been able to defend himself. If he had been a proper kirin, Tai would not have almost fallen.

Gyousou seemed to understand what he wanted to say, and patted the mattress beside him. That was enough of an invitation for Taiki, who rose unsteadily to claim the spot. Feeling Gyousou's warmth beside him, he felt the interior barrier that had walled off his emotions crack. Gyousou was _real_ , Taiki was beside him again...

Tears rolled off his face unbidden as he wrapped his arms around his master. Clutching Gyousou's shoulders, he finally allowed himself to mourn for all that had been lost. Gyousou sat stoically, with only the movement of his hand in Taiki's mane signaling that he was not untouched by similar grief.


End file.
